She Traitor

Sarah looked around the table she was sitting at with Barty with satisfaction. It wasn't anything new - she was used to spending a lot of time with him and sometimes with the Slytherin boys, especially now that Pandora was more and more distant. Sometimes, when she took a break and focused on what she actually enjoyed, she realized that Barty was special. He always had a lot of interesting insights and was incredibly smart. Of course, she knew that he had the best exam results, but most of the time he acted like an idiot.

What had happened between her and Barty no longer seemed strange to her. It was natural. But what was starting to worry her was the fact that she was increasingly aware of how everything around her was changing. Pandora, her old friend, had been distancing herself from her lately. Maybe it was because of something that had happened during the holidays, but Sarah didn't want to deal with it.  As she sat with Barty at the Ravenclaw table, her eyes involuntarily wandered to James, who was sitting with Lily Evans and the other Gryffindors. His laughter, his banter, the way he and Lily exchanged words that Sarah could barely understand now, all affected her. Not that it hurt as much as it had before, but she was still aware of the strange pressure in her chest when she saw them enjoying the moments they had had with him before. The dull ache that had been there some time ago had long since faded, but it was still there, like a silent memory of something that had been and was no longer.

Barty's presence, drawing her into the discussion of potions, had temporarily distracted her from her thoughts. They were talking about living death, a topic that would be part of their next hour after lunch, and Sarah had to focus on what Barty was saying to her.  It was always so easy to join in his conversations – his interest in potions and magic was close to her heart. Although she was a little embarrassed when she remembered the way everyone had looked at her last night when she had talked about it. The way Barty was talking to her so openly now brought her some relief.

"So what do you think, Sarah?" Barty interrupted her thoughts and her eyes returned to him.

"What?" she asked, thinking for a moment. Her mind was still busy looking at James and Lily, but she was focused on Barty.

"A sip of living death. Do you think it's really as dangerous as the professor says?" Barty leaned towards her, his face full of interest.

"Of course it is," Sarah replied, smiling, as she always did when she talked about something that interested her.  "But that doesn't mean it's not fascinating. What would the value of a spell be if it weren't dangerous, right?" she added, realizing that her words might have sounded a little different than she had intended. She tried to lighten her tone.

Barty laughed, but his laugh was serious, thoughtful. "Well, it's still the most interesting topic to me," he said finally.

Sarah thought about how easily this topic could become completely absorbing, and how little the others took it seriously. But for her, it was a part of the world she never wanted to leave. And as long as she sat at the table with Barty, talking about potions, nothing could break her. She was safe here. Even though she knew that something was still wrong with her - something that had to do not only with Pandora, but with what was happening around Regulus's behavior and the other Slytherins. But that remained a question she didn't want to answer right now.

"It'll be interesting after lunch," she added, smiling at Barty as she continued to listen to him discuss living death.

•••

Sarah sat quietly next to Rabastan, reading the passages about the love potion in her textbook. It was ridiculous—she had long since memorized its effects. Her father had taught her to brew most potions before they were even taught at Hogwarts, and the love potion was no exception. Yet she looked interested, as if she were genuinely trying to understand something new.

Rabastan sat next to her, but today he was different than usual. Unusually quiet. Normally he would have smiled sarcastically at the topic and made a mocking remark about the stupidity of such a potion, but now he was silent, scribbling something on the parchment. Sarah glanced at him briefly, but she didn’t ask. She was sure he wouldn’t have answered anyway.

When they finally got the order to start making the potion, Sarah worked quickly and precisely. Her movements were automatic, deliberate, and the potion gradually formed in her cauldron, starting to take on its characteristic pearly sheen.  Occasionally, Rabastan would whisper a question or a request for advice, and Sarah would always answer. He wasn't feeling himself today either.

The lesson continued, and after a while a girl's voice spoke from the next desk. "Done, Professor!" Sarah didn't even have to look up to recognize that it was Bianca Zabini.

A few seconds later another voice spoke. "Done," Regulus Black said in a calm, confident tone. Sarah caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye as he put down his mixing spoon. She finished her own potion as well. She lifted her head and met Regulus's gaze before they both turned to Professor Slughorn.

Professor Slughorn rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. "Excellent, excellent! Now, Mr. Black, could you please tell us exactly what a love potion does and how we can recognize it?"

Regulus nodded and stood up. His voice was firm, well-articulated.  "The love potion, often referred to as Amortentia, is the most powerful potion of its kind in existence. It cannot be considered true love, but rather a strong obsession that can lead to dangerous consequences." As he spoke, his gaze shifted to Sarah several times, as if waiting for her reaction. "Its main distinguishing features are its pearly sheen and its specific scent. Everyone smells something different—the scent adapts to what attracts them most."

When he had finished speaking, several students whispered to each other in interested tones. Professor Slughorn smiled enthusiastically. "Very well, Mr. Black! And now..." He looked around the classroom, his gaze resting on Regulus. "Are you going to tell us what you yourself feel?"

Silence. Regulus stood still, his expression remaining neutral, but Sarah could see that his eyes had darkened. After a short pause, he said calmly, "I'm sorry, Professor, but I'd rather not."

Sarah felt a strange sensation spread through her body. Maybe it was just her instinct, but she could have sworn that Regulus had looked directly at her as he said those words.

Finally, Edgar Bones broke the silence. "I'll tell you what I smell, Professor," he said from across the room, and Slughorn nodded enthusiastically. But Sarah couldn't concentrate any longer. She could still feel that look. Regulus Black's brief but intense look.

Edgar looked at Professor Slughorn with a smile and said confidently, "I smell freshly cut grass, parchment, and cinnamon."

Several students laughed, one nodded as if thinking that made sense. Professor Slughorn applauded enthusiastically. "Excellent, Mr. Bones! As you can see, everyone perceives the scent of a love potion differently, depending on what is closest to them." He turned back to the class, his smile unchanged.  “That’s all for today! And before you go, a quick reminder – I’m expecting the members of my Club to attend the Christmas party on the first Saturday in December. I hope you’ll all be there!”

Sarah closed her book and quickly packed up her things. She knew that all her Slytherin friends, Barty and Pandora, were at the club, so she didn’t have to worry about being alone. Plus, if she remembered correctly, she danced with Regulus at Slughorn’s last party.

It was a strange memory. His touch had been amazing for her, his movements precise, but despite his typically calm expression, she remembered how tightly he’d held her. As if he didn’t want her to escape.

Now, though, he seemed to be trying to stay away from her. And she wasn’t sure why. Then again, it wouldn’t be Sarah if she hadn’t figured it out.

•••

Evan looked at Regulus, who had put on his impenetrable mask as always. If he didn't know him, he might have thought he didn't care. But he did. He knew him well enough to notice the tension in his shoulders, the clenched fists, and the gaze that had been fixed on Sarah for far too long before he forced himself to look away.

But Evan didn't want to notice. He had enough of his own problems already, and there was no time to deal with Regulus and his unspoken feelings. So he broke the silence with another topic.

"Pandora hasn't spoken to me since the beginning of the year," he said, watching Regulus frown slightly. "It's been weeks. From what I know from Dorcas, she's distancing herself from Barty and Dorcas too."

Rabastan snorted without looking up from the floor. "Pandora never wanted to be a part of all this shit with the Dark Lord."

Evan stopped in mid-step and turned sharply to him. “And you?” His voice was razor-sharp. “Because as far as I know, you’ve been avoiding it, but you might get a mark at Christmas.”

Rabastan stopped and looked at Evan for the first time. There was something dark, unreadable in his eyes. “Do you think I can choose?” he asked slowly. Dangerous.

Regulus suddenly slowed his pace and glared at them. “Shut up, both of you. This is not something that is talked about in the halls.”

Evan turned to him with an incredulous expression. “Really, Reg? After everything that happened over the holidays, you’re going to pretend nothing happened?”

Regulus stopped, his eyes hardening. “Don’t talk about it.”

Evan growled. “That refusal of yours could have cost you your life.”

Regulus looked at him, his gaze as cold as ice. "I am the heir of the Blacks. The Dark Lord cannot afford to remove me so easily. He does not want to rebel against my family."

Evan laughed, but it was a bitter laugh. "Maybe not now. But next holiday? Wait, you will have to bend the knee."

Regulus looked at him for a long time before finally speaking. His voice was low but piercing. "Blacks do not bow."

And then, almost in a whisper, he added in French, "Toujours Pur."

Evan paused, but Regulus was already continuing down the corridor as if the conversation had never happened. Several of the second-years quickly moved out of his way, their eyes widening at the sight of his aristocratic, cold expression.  Regulus had something about him that made him a natural authority figure—that quiet, unwavering certainty that made people back down without him even having to look at them.

Evan noticed Rabastan take a short breath, a strange mixture of admiration and frustration crossing his face. The longing look he gave Regulus said it all—he wanted that kind of determination, that kind of certainty in his own worth. But Rabastan was in his older brother’s shadow. Rudolfus was always at his heels, dictating his steps, influencing his future. No matter how hard Rabastan tried, he was always just a younger Lestrange, never the one who could determine his own destiny.

Regulus had cast off the shadow that his own brother had represented. He was no longer just a younger Black, he was no longer the one who lived in Sirius’ shadow. He had grown into a true heir—confident, determined, unwavering.  Whatever the reason behind his decisions, it was clear that he was following his own path. And Walburga Black would undoubtedly be proud of him.